


Educating Malcolm

by MindBoggling



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindBoggling/pseuds/MindBoggling
Summary: Malcolm Tucker and Nicola Murray cross paths again years after leaving politics.Even if human nature makes us capable of change, we don't get there easily. And neither will they.
Relationships: Nicola Murray & Malcolm Tucker, Nicola Murray/Malcolm Tucker
Comments: 22
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revamp of my first ever attempt of writing fan fiction.
> 
> Thank you all for leaving kudos and lovely and encouraging comments on the first version.
> 
> Sadly it was beyond saving, but I saved all your kind feedback :)

_Here‘s the line Malcolm: Ye‘re a fucking auid has been. No one gives a fuckin‘ shite about what ye‘re doing with yer sairy life._

_Ye_ _aefauldly_ _trou_ _ocht_ _of this would still make a fucking headline?_ _Anyone noticing_ _ochtlins_ _?_

_How delusional can ye get, ye old git. Tha‘ fuckin‘ Ship Called Dignity has left the fucking harbour ages ago._

_Jesus Malcolm, I didnae know if it ever mattered, even at the height of what ye called yer fuckin‘ power._

_Ye either get a grip now or ye‘ll let the fucking bastards win again._

_Now inhale, exhale and fucking do wha‘ needs tae be done fer the greater good._

He had always hated the fucking headlights. Never wanted to be center stage.

Running the show had always been more powerful than performing some other bastard‘s puir excuse for brainfarts.

How the mighty had been thoroughly fucked. He inhaled.

No whitt reck. Time to bring on _London‘s Fucking Best Malcolm Tucker Tribute Band._


	2. Just another Manic Monday

Malcolm would have happily killed everybody who‘d suggested he was suffering from a intense depressive episode. He might be only a shadow of his former terrifying self, the ghost of goverments past, but he could still scare seven shades of shit out of most people. He just _couldn‘t be arsed_ most days.

He‘d been having _s_ _leeping disturbances, loss of interest in activities outside work, reduced appetite and weight loss_ decades before it became fashionable and every wee sleezeball claimed to suffer from feckin‘ burnout. Having " _angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matter_ s“ on a daily basis was part of his well-rounded personality. That didn‘t make him a fucking maniac.

It was fucking natural he felt _tired to his bones_ and _worthless_ and _blamed himself_ after the power was gone. Of course he was _irritated_ and fucking _tense_. No man in his position would have had a social life to return to or any _interest in sex, hobbies or sports_. His current job bored the fucking daylights out of him. It only used about ten percent of his mental capacity and none of it was related to blackmail, threats of bodily harm or elaborate Machevallian schemes. Malcolm F. Tucker was fucking wasting his talents.

He had to keep this damn job though. Working in PR for Bloodsuckers International PLC was boring as bat shit but it helped to pay the mortgage and the legal bills that were still towering to an alarming level. Fuck that legal scum. They had helped to keep him out of prison but they had made sure he was paying for his sins for the rest of his fucking life.

There had been a frankly disappointing number of job opportunities for him after the inquiry, and he did earn an indecent salary while working from nine to five, having the weekend off. So what if he did fuck all good to the world. Looking back that had been true of most of his time working for the bloody party too.

So maybe one of those useless meetings had gotten a little shouty purely out of boredom, and of course one of this useless wee snitches had gleefully filed a complaint with HR.

The fucking Chief Human Resources Officer at Leeches Limited had requested a personal statement a week ago. Malcolm Tucker had been summoned to the fucking headmaster’s office like one of those fucking public school twats.

The stupid bitch had been quite clear that this had been one complaint too many to HR on his behalf. Malcolm were to be suspended from work until he attended a "professional re-training“ to reacquaint him with "our prevailing workplace standards and guidelines" to make sure he was "aware of the proper behavior and work technicalities in our company".

When he had rejected categorically she had dared to give him a fucking ultimatum. “It is either this or anger management, Malcolm, unless you'd prefer us to decruit you”.

If he had offended some snowflaky spotty schoolboys, what did it even matter? When did everyone start to be so easily offended? He'd be fucked if he could not call out bullshitters any more. But he had clenched his fists and accepted it.

All in all he absofuckinglutely didn’t miss his so called power over the wankers that never amounted to much anyway, but he still felt humiliated to have to accept orders from anyone apart from the Prime Minister.

So Malcolm showed up at a posh office in Lisson Grove on time for his appointment, sullen and reproachful but determined get this done with.

Malcolm had not even bothered to check on Perseverance Consulting because he didn't give a fuck. Being all knowing was no longer part of his job description. He just needed to get this over with, tick the necessary boxes to state he wasn‘t mental and entirely capable of functioning as a proper worker bee in the fucking hive mind, and then get on with his life.

If he had done any research he might have noticed that there was not a single fact to be found out about Perseverance Consulting. There was a single web page that consisted of an elegant logo and a phone number. That was all. No “about“, no “team“, no address. No yelp, no references, no photos. Short of the MI5 this must have been the most discrete company in London.

Malcolm was blissfully ignorant of that. So the surprise on his face was genuine when he was shown to an office and Nicola Murray got up from behind her executive desk to welcome him.

“Bugger me sideways! Nic‘la!“


	3. The Event

Malcolm hadn‘t seen Nicola Murray since what his zeitgeisty memory had forced him to refer to as "The Event“. The inquiry that he had fucked with so much that it had ultimately led to his losing the one thing that had mattered in his life. His memory brought back an unwanted loop of his trying to stage his exit with some dignity. He quickly silenced it. No use in looking back, no regrets, always moving on, right?

Nicola came over and took both of her hands to shake his, like he was a long missed friend. He‘d always found that fucking irritating.

"Malcolm, good to see you. Have a seat.“ Malcolm felt _nearly_ speechless. That would not do. His brain may have not been much challenged lately but they‘d still have to kill his foul mouth after his death. They'd have to fucking bury it separately just to make sure he‘d shut it. But apparantly the treacherous bastard of his limbic brain had just short circuited and decided to focus on how good Nicola looked wearing a close fitting light blue dress and how her hair curled in a lose chignon.

It seemed his brain and trap had agreed on to run independently of his will for once. Instead of coming up with some full speed sarcastic remark his mind found it hilarious to bring back some safely repressed memories of Nicola fucking Murray. The last career he destroyed in a chain of increasingly desperate decisions. He couldn't really process how Nicola “frumpy” Murray was looking elegant and confident and almost… hot? If you were into MILFs that was. Seriously, she had to be fifty now but she looked radiant and what was even worse she seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

As Director of Communications, Malcolm had been an expert in spinning stories. Most people would have agreed he had truly mastered the art of lying to perfection. It came with the territory. If he squinted he could still believe some of those lies himself. Some lies he had desperately needed to cling to after Jamie had left. But even he wouldn‘t be able to convince himself that he hadn‘t been thinking about Nicola Murray after The Event. Insomnia did that for you. In the past he‘d always have enough running through his mind to keep him busy and focussed on work. Now he had so much free time on his hand those sleepless night often turned back to events he hadn‘t had bothered to process then. Not that he‘d ever regretted anything.

“Malcolm, I understand that your Human Resources Management has recommended you use our services. This is unusual as we provide services to those who seek personal growth on their own account. We offer our services as a safe space for that growth. In your case our involvement does not seem to be entirely voluntary. Is that so?“

"Aye“ was all Malcolm managed to say.

"Our clients mandate us with a great deal of trust and we deliver outstanding results. I fully acknowledge that your current position might feel inferior to your time as the feared Director of Communications and I truly believe you might benefit from our services. But you would need to mandate us yourself. We don‘t do detention, much as you HR might think it necessary.  
I can assure you that everything happening in our process is to be strictly confidential. We will just confirm with your company that you are attending the tutorials and assert when you will be able to return to work. You would have to sign a non-disclosure contract. This is standard procedure. We do not – and I can not stress this enough - tolerate any kind of leaking”.

Malcolm put on his reading glasses and skipped through four pages Nicola had handed him. No notes to be taken, mobile to be turned off at all times, no public references to the consultancy, yadda yadda yadda. Boring legal stuff. Basically he pledged all earthly possessions and his inner organs if he only as much as breathed anything to anyone about this. He had not been expecting this. Maybe he was more bored than he had actually acknowledged before but his curiosity got the better of him.

Of course he should not agree to any of this and he definitely should not sign anything without consulting a lawyer first. But they would recommend not to sign it and where would be the fun in that? This was the most exciting thing that had happened to him since.. his old life and he felt strangely compelled to find out what Nicola had been up to those past years. Judging from her looks and demeanour she must have achieved quite some "personal growth“ herself. So why not mix business with pleasure? He quickly signed at the dotted line, did a sarcastic half smile and asked "So what’s Mrs. Murray’s having in mind for me then?“.

Nicola smiled commiseratively. "Oh I don't have anything in mind for you at all. Since you and I have had a previous working relationship I decided to assign you one of my consultants to give you some privacy. We would not want to put your development at risk by linking to a past we both have left behind us."


	4. Cutting balls

If Malcolm had been a man to acknowledge his feelings he might have called the sensation creeping up inside him something like disappointment. Not that he would have been disappointed by the fact not to spend any more his precious time in Nicola "fuck up“ Murray‘s presence. It couldn‘t have been that so he decided to discard it and settle for a malicious smile. "I put myself entirely at your disposal ma‘am.“

He followed Nicola to another office with an open door that looked suspiciously like a psychologist‘s surgery, all soft cushions and light colours and a box of tissues on the coffeetable between two chairs. The consultant was typing something at her computer when Nicola softly knocked. "Sarah, this is Malcolm.“

Jesus fucking Christ, she was young. That lass could be 30 at the most. The blonde woman got up, shook his hand and welcomed him.. "Are you fucking me about?“ he asked indignantly.

„Malcolm, why don‘t you sit down and we get things started“. Malcolm was fuming and turned round only to notice Nicola had already left.

So he might as well take a seat. "I expected.. I was let to believe I was going to be trained by a professional.. not some wee lassie who‘s too young to vote or least keep their drink“.

“I am 29 and a fully qualified consultant. I can show you my degrees if you want." She smiled coolly and had a brief look into the folder she had put in front of her. “Why do you think you are here Malcolm?”

This was easy. Evading questions was his forte, another of his skills cultivated to perfection that he took great pride in. He was getting the upper hand now. No matter how odd the circumstances he was still Malcolm Tucker. He had bollocked people more senior than her millions of times. Maybe little Sarah would make this detention more fun than he expected.

“Fuck me if I know. Was told to come here. Maybe some ‘violent sexual imagery’ I came up with at the last board meeting.”

“I hear that your HR Manager decided you would benefit from our services and is willing to settle the bills. That Nicola accepted you as a client means that you must have agreed to mandate us yourself though.“

“Yeah. Need to get this fucking done with so I can get back to work so might as well do it here.”

“You know, young as I am I'm still aware of your infamous course of life and career Malcolm. Allow me to state that it is quite unusual for a company to invest so much in an employee so thoroughly incinerated and so close to the natural end of their career. No offence but I would advise against it.“ Sarah smiled coldly at him. "However someone at your company seemed quite determined you should have this opportunity. So I would recommend you play by the rules because it might well be your last chance for acceptable employment.“

Her smile seemed to let the room temperature drop by several degrees. He felt a twitch around the area where other people had their heart missing.. what, Nicola's warmth? The fuck he wasn't.

“So you are polishing the turds?"

“Normally I wouldn‘t, no. Nicola has asked me to make an exception from my usual standard in clients for your benefit. My typical client would be a social climber without a private education struggling to move in circles dominated almost entirely by people you so wittingly refer to as “Oxbridge twats“. We enable them to do so confidently. We help to polish the _diamonds_ a little further, if you will. Your company seemed to think you would benefit from some polishing, to help you to refine your skills and make them attune with modern times, as it were.”

Malcolm shrugged. He still didn't see what this bullshit should be good for.

“Please allow me to make myself very clear. I have never failed a mandate before and I do not intend to change that by, as you might call it, “fucking this up”. If I take on the impossible task of making you fit in a civilised work surrounding, I will most certainly deliver results.”

Bugger me, Malcolm was almost impressed by that girl‘s balls. This training was to put him on his toes and his humiliation was just a bonus.

“There’s nothing wrong with my fucking attitude”. Malcolm’s vein started to throb. Anger filled his body. “Now this has been quite a lark, lass, but I’ll be buggered if I’ll let you mess with my balls!”

“Malcolm I am aware that you have formerly worked in a more senior position in communications. That must be the reason why any subtlety is lost on you. I feel that your comprehension of the situation may benefit from a little more direct approach.” Sarah gave him the briefest of smiles.

„If you decide to not fully cooperate your employer will terminate your contract of employment.”

Her smile returned, almost invisibly.

„Malcolm, you are the only turd I ever agreed to polish and I am only doing this as a favour for Nicola.“

Oh.


	5. Small print

Malcolm was aware that he hadn’t managed a very dignified exit of Sarah‘s office that day. There had been some shouting, entirely on his part. Sarah had not raised her voice once. She had remained all calm and professional and yes, of course he should check anything unclear with HR before scheduling their next meeting. 

He called Human Resources and asked to speak with Anna. “Are you fucking mental? You get the fucking exorcist to deliver me from all evil? Is this some pervy sexual fantasy to have me finally bow to you as the fucking queen bee?”

“Now Malcolm. You need to calm down. I understand this may have been an unpleasant surprise for you. But I must insist you will have to make more of an effort. There have been some very serious allegations made against you, very very serious indeed, and I can no longer turn a blind eye on them. There is an alarmingly high number of people who downright refuse to work with you.

Your overall performance is pleasing, but I can absoluteley not tolerate your behaviour any longer. It’s not acceptable under workplace regulations and you do know that. The constant swearing is not even the part people mind that much. But they all draw a line at permanently being mocked, insulted, shouted at, threatened or ridiculed. As indeed they should. It is simply not done to even mention to rip of people’s testicles and feed them to them."

“So you thought you‘d go all in with this full exorcism shite and get my personal Nemesis Nicki Murray to do it as a personal vendetta? To brainwash me to fit to your little cult of cunts?”

“Malcolm, sarcasm is not the solution. I think you will agree that I have been very reasonable with you the past two years. But I will absolutely not keep protecting you if you refuse any effort to blend in. There are plenty of methods to get things done in our company and if you still do not possess the mastery of them yourself I suggest you to at least start mimicking them.”

"I‘ll be fucked if I let them fuck me about, darlin'.“

“Malcolm, I am only saying this once more so please listen. This is the last chance you will get. I insist you make full use of this training programme or you will lose your job, Malcolm."

Anna paused a moment before she added „I did sincerely hope I could spare Nicola working with you. But truth be told, I could not find another consultancy willing to take you as a client for a necessary behaviour remodeling." She sighed quietly.

Blimey, Malcolm never thought Anna could even be this determined. Not bloody likely to find an easy way out of this detention now. He realised he had lost the battle. Not the war obviously, Malcolm Tucker did not lose a fucking war. But it seemed best to choose a tactical retreat to make it look like he’d obey.

* * *

Before making his first appointment with Sarah, Malcolm’s brain volunteered to do some spin on this whole business. It would be smart to first get some more intelligence on what was going on, see if he could make this work for himself. Shouting exhausted him far too much these days anyway so maybe he could learn some new technique from that lass. God these past two years had been boring his balls of, he could do with a worthy opponent.

He had not been able to find out anything about Perseverance or Sarah, not even about Nicola after the end of her political career. Shortly after the Goolding inquiry she had disappeared entirely from the political landscape. She had not stood in the election. Her last mention in a paper dated back to 2012, and her Wikipedia entry ended there too. Nowadays his research consisted mainly of using the internet like fucking civilian. He still knew how to dig up any dirt, but there seemed to be none at all.

* * *

“How lovely you could find the time in your busy schedule to come here Malcolm” said Sarah when Malcolm arrived at her office a week later.

Her flowery dress was highlighting her curves and her legs were frankly gorgeous. His predatory smile as he scanned her body would have scared older women out of her wits. Sarah seemed not in the least unsettled. He felt excitement build up inside him. This was about power. This was his favourite game. He had not felt this alive in years.

Sarah smiled politely. “Malcolm, I understand that despite your age you still enjoy acting quite the 'rebel', are you not? Allow me to make sure we are on the same page. Perseverance offers a broad range of areas of personal growth to our clients. The methods we choose are at our discretion and come from a wide field of expertise. We will not disclose them to anyone nor will we discuss them with you in detail.The programm is completely tailored your personal needs. The curriculum circles around broadening your horizon. There will be ample possibilities for new experiences. While it is entirely up to you how you decide to make use of them, you will benefit most if you will open your mind."

Malcolm couldn’t help rolling his eyes at this level of bullshit and murmuring “What a wonderful world full of fucking self improving care bears” under his breath.

“There is absolutely no need for sarcasm here Malcolm. No offence, but I think you could benefit immensely from our services. Your style and personality are blatantly still firmly rooted in the nineties.“

Malcolm wasn’t hurt. You could not hurt Malcom Tucker. No. He was still invulnerable.

“I hear you have not used the past years to advance on your manners and your communication technique. While your employer seems to approve of the results you deliver they are certainly no longer willing to entertain your behaviour. Neither am I, let me make that absolutely clear. Please let me state our basic rules that will not be bent:

You will keep any scheduled meeting. You will not question the curriculum or my authority and you will do any tasks assigned. You will not lie or try to threaten or manipulate people to get your will. I would prefer you to keep that colourful language of yours to a minimum but this is entirely up to you. If you fail to respect my authority, if you miss any appointment, if I detect as much as a hint of manipulation, lie or threat regarding our agreement this collaboration ends. I will inform Nicola and I understand your employer will end your employment".

Sarah smiled an almost insultingly professional smile.

"There will be no first warning, Malcolm. One strike and you're out. And please let me add that no other consultant at Perseverance is willing to accept you as a client."

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Malcolm had not survived working in Westminster for nearly twenty years by showing reactions to other people‘s statements. Unless aggression was required of course, but that had been more of a Pavlovian conditioning really.

“So, Mr. Tucker, now that the rules are settled, why don’t we start with some more in depth chat on you and why you are here.”

Malcolm gave her his third best charming smile ( _Tucker‘s Rule of Survival Number 37: Never go all in. You always need to have something more up your sleeves for emergency situations_ ).

“As you said: HR made me come her to brush up my interpersonal skills. That‘s all. No need to worry your pretty head to get into my mind. If I‘m good and play by the rules I may get back to my work. Or if I like it I might even become a consultant myself. I miss fucking other people’s lives for money.“

“Very amusing, Mr. Tucker. You can‘t provoke me. I am not particularly interested in your petty little mind games. I promised Nicola to try to help you, though why anyone thinks you worth the effort is quite beyond me.”

Malcolm was briefly reminded how Nicola had always been driven by her desire to help people, to improve their lives, to have an impact. He had believed he had clubbed that from her all those years ago, and in front of Dan fucking Miller too. But maybe she had found a way of preserving some of it, of making herself believe she actually fulfilled a deeper purpose with this shady shitty dumbfuckery business, who knew. That would be exactly her thing, and that would be how Anna from HR had been able to convince her she might actually do something to help the toxic landfill that was Malcolm Tucker. Which just went to prove that she was still as naive and relentlessly optimistic as he had known her.

"Och Sarah, aren't ye enjoying saying that just a little too much? ‘D‘ye get your orgasms from getting paid for humiliating men?.”

Sarah smiled cooly. “This is just a fringe benefit Mr. Tucker. It's all in a day's work for me".

She let her smile drop. "I hear you are an exceptionally clever man Mr. Tucker. I'm not entirely convinced. You would know better than to bully or blackmail people into submission then. This may have worked for a long period in a particularly toxic environment but this is over and quite right to. You remember those silly dinosaur films from the nineties? It‘s been done. There is no need for more of the same. I am sure that was all very amusing for a short time period but they have disappeared into oblivion and so should your shitty behaviour towards your coworkers.“

Malcolm raised an eyebrow but didn’t care to answer.

“If you are indeed smart I doubt you honestly believe you can avoid change. Nevertheless you choose being feared and disliked over making use of your talents for something positive. I want to know why. I imagine you are used to always considering yourself the brightest person in the room. Maybe you are avoiding getting close to people as it‘s always so much easier to be angry with a lot of stupid incompetent people? Better than to rage with yourself and your poor decision making. But is that really all there is to it?"

“Well didn’t I see that psychobabble creeping up like Prince Philip with a fucking flint behind the back of a puir lame bunny. Aye, let’s focus on exposing Malcolm to his fuckity feelings. The old git is fucked up anyhow, let’s poke around his mind!" 

If he was not mistaken Sarah had briefly smiled.

“You are not scaring me by shouting and swearing Malcolm. I have heard so much worse. Besides, it does wear off, don‘t you agree? It is best used as sparingly as an exclamation mark in a press release.“

Now she definitely smiled at him condescendingly. "I am told that you can actually refrain from ‘violent sexual imagery’ or from verbally degrading people if you choose to do so. Nicola told me you used do it all the time when you dealt with 'civilians'. It’d just take some conscious effort, wouldn’t it, to remind yourself once in a while that you are working with actual people with actual feelings.

To lower yourself to our standards, to connect with our mundane little sorrows and cares and growing pains. We’re not all Fucking Perfect like Malcolm Tucker but neither are we all dimwits unable to cope with our small lives. It’s not all Whitehall with Humpty Numptys sitting on every wall, everyone with just one thing on their agenda, to ruin Malcolm' Tucker's life and make the party unelectable."

Sarah got up to take a card from her desk.

"Of course you would risk being actually liked or disliked as a person, not to hide behind your role any longer. I told you this programme is all about the choices you make for your life. In your case I think all your choices are made to keep people at a distance. So we are going to work with that hypothesis shall we?"

She handed him the card. "So this is where this programme is going to take you next. I'll see you there tomorrow at 2pm".

  
  



End file.
